


at thirty-thousand feet the world changes

by youheldyourbreath



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, inspired by the ffh trailer, slighly angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 08:26:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17443400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youheldyourbreath/pseuds/youheldyourbreath
Summary: Ned Leeds was a good best friend. He wanted to sit next to Peter Parker for their eight hour plane ride to Europe, even though his girlfriend, Betty Bryant, was in the seat just in front of him.And Peter appreciated the sentiment, really. But Ned should sit next to his girlfriend.Which was fine. He could sit next to MJ. In a confined space. For multiple hours. It was totally not a problem.





	at thirty-thousand feet the world changes

“Parker,” Mr. Harrington waved Peter down. He dodged and weaved through the crowd of animated tourists and skidded to the boarding zone. Twenty minutes later than their boarding time.

Flushed and anxious, he rambled, “I’m so sorry, Mr. Harrington. My alarm clock never went off and I overslept. And then, the trains were running slow. And—”

His teacher cut him off, “That’s all very nice and well, Mr. Parker. Get on the plane.” He flushed deeply and began spouting off another round of apologies and excuses. Mr. Harrington shook his head, “Plane.”

The flight attendant scanned their tickets with an accusatory eyebrow. Peter flinched. He didn’t know for sure if he had held up their takeoff, but he had a sneaking suspicion, from the look of the attendant, that he had at least inconvenienced the crew.

They scuttled their way down to the entrance of the plane and scooted down the aisle to the back of the plane where Ned was waiting. Upon seeing his best friend, Ned visibly exhaled. “Thank god,” he muttered as Peter stowed his Uncle’s suitcase in the overhead compartment, “I thought you were gonna miss the flight.”

Peter squeaked past the nice lady on the aisle with an apology and hopped over Ned in the middle seat. He dropped into the window seat and rubbed his drawn face, “It’s been a morning.”

“Michelle called you, like, four times,” Ned said, snuggling back into the rigid seat, as if preparing to take on the eight hour trip like a soldier.

Peter fumbled for the phone jammed in his pocket, “Really?” The screen lit up and, low and behold, it was riddled with texts and calls from MJ. He cursed quietly.

The seat in front of him squeaked as MJ turned around and squeezed her face between the opening of the chairs, “Really.”

He apologized, “MJ, I’m really sorry. I was running late. I didn’t think to look at my phone.”

She appraised him with a castigatory look. Without another word, she faced front and began to clack away at the screen.

Betty’s sweet little face filled the empty space where MJ had poked through. She narrowed her eyes at Peter and sniped, “You had Ned all worked up, Peter.”

Ned shot Peter a sheepish look. He refuted his girlfriend, “Not _that_ worried.”

The blonde rolled her eyes and insisted, “Yes, that worried.” She swiveled around in her seat and joined MJ in the hunt to occupy herself for the next eight hours.  

He felt thoroughly admonished.

Ned nudged him with his elbow, smiling in that bright and cheerful way that was entirely Ned, and Peter began to feel his spirits lighten. Ned Leeds was a master of kindness. It was contagious. Peter gradually returned the grin. His best friend gestured to the screen, “They have the original Star Wars trilogy on here. Marathon?”

The plane startled into motion, backing out of the bay, and Peter flipped his phone into airplane mode. He spotted all of Michelle’s texts and phone calls one last time and dampened the flush of embarrassment that waved through him. Later, he told himself, he would make it up to her later. Peter nodded, “Absolutely.”  

* * *

Three hours into the flight, Peter could feel Ned growing restless. He knew it was a long flight, but Ned was never distracted during Empire Strikes Back. It was the best Star Wars movie ever made, in their not so humble opinion, and required all the respect and attention of a perfect Star Wars movie.

Peter paused his screen. Ned hastily echoed his friend’s motion. He yanked an earbud out, profoundly confused, and asked, “What’s wrong?”

Peter snuck a glance between the airplane seats at Betty who was curled up in her seat, sleeping soundly. He jerked his head toward the seat in front of Ned, “You obviously want to be with Betty.”

Ned dismissed Peter’s assessment with a chortle, “What? Pfft. No, I don’t. We promised we’d sit next to each other.”

Peter admired Ned and his conviction that a promise between best friends was as binding as a contact, but he could give up Ned for the remaining five hours, if Betty was where he really wanted to be. He knew, when Ned started dating Betty at the end of the school year, that he was going to have to compromise some Ned-time to Betty. And, if it was what made Ned happy, Peter didn’t mind.

Besides, it was sweet.

Even if Betty wanted to rake Peter over the coals for being late and causing her boyfriend the slightest bit of stress. She was intense. Her sweet demeanor did not account for the steel underneath.

Peter shrugged, “It’s cool. I don’t mind.”

Ned perked up, slightly, “Really?”

“Not a bit,” Peter assured him. He leaned his hand between the opening of the seats and nudged her shoulder. She flailed awake, blinking away sleep, “Wha—what happened?”

“Betty,” Peter whispered, “Switch seats with me.”

She rubbed her eyes and twisted her head back to look at him. She looked surprised by his offer, “Really?”

Peter nodded, “Totally.”

Her mouth softened and he saw her forgive him for running late that morning all in one moment. Her lips turned upward at the corners of her mouth, “Thank you, Peter.”

It was a bit of a juggle, and an endless parade of apologies to the poor woman sitting in the aisle seat, but with a bit of adjusting Peter fell into his new middle seat for the remainder of the trip. The things he did for his friends.

He turned around to check on Ned and Betty and she was contently curling up next to her boyfriend. Ned looked delighted with his hand resting on her knee.

Peter smiled to himself and turned back to his screen to pick-up his Star Wars marathon.

MJ broke the silence, before he pressed play, whispering, “That was really nice of you.”

He pulled his headphones off and hummed, “Hmm?”

She rolled her eyes, but there was not bite to it, and repeated, “I said, that was really nice of you.”

Peter wiped his palms on his jeans. He tried to hide the flush creeping up his neck with a calculated shrug, “It’s no big deal.”

Michelle didn’t look like she believed him, but she didn’t push. Instead, she agreed, “Sure, but it was still really nice.”

Faced with her eyes, he suddenly remembered the legions of texts and calls she had tried to get through to him that morning. His flush traveled faster to color his cheeks. “Look, MJ,” he swallowed, “I’m sorry about this morning. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

She tutted, “I wasn’t worried.” But there was something about her tone that didn’t ring true. He had worried her. And Ned. He needed to invest in a new alarm clock, or perhaps no alarm clock at all. Phone alarms worked plenty fine for most people.

But, there was a tiny part of him, that clung to his old, crappy clock. His Uncle Ben had told him how to read time by it. As they moved from apartment to apartment in the years after his death while May tried to make a single-parent income work, less-and-less of his uncle’s things traveled from place to place. They were either lost in the transition or given away.

That dumb alarm clock was still there.

He cleared his throat and thoughts of Ben Parker, “Still, I’m sorry.”

She bit the bottom of her lip and it was extremely jarring. He had never truly noticed her lips before. And now that she had inadvertently drawn attention to them, he was rattled. He forced his gaze back to her eyes, when she said, “Well, its not like you’ve been very good at answering my texts or calls before. I’m used to it.”

It was meant to be teasing or light, but the accusation hit him square in the chest. He had not been a very good friend the last few years, even before _everything_. And falling back into normal teenage patterns after space, after Thanos, had been harder than he imagined when the destroyed buildings were rebuilt, when the funerals were done.

MJ had been a good friend to him after the Vulture debacle. She had been absolutely invaluable when Ned and Betty started to date, as a buffer to the pet-names and PDA. And he had blown off her texts and calls that morning, and hurt her. He touched her hand apologetically, “I am sorry.”

Her eyes snapped down to the fingers brushing her own. He did, too. For a moment, together, they stared at their hands. Peter drew them away only after the moment was truly felt, jolting his system.

It was the proximity, he assured himself. He was next to a pretty girl. He was—

Holy shit, he realized, MJ was really pretty. He was going to be stuck next to a really pretty girl for five hours in a confined space. Their knees were pressed up against each other by the simple nature of airplane travel. It was making him a little dizzy. Her. Not the altitude.

Peter wiped his palms on his jeans, again, but this time it was to rid him of the sweaty discomfort of his hands.

She returned to her television screen and Peter tried to pay attention to his own. It was strangely difficult. He began to feel like he understood a fraction of why Ned was unable to focus on Empire Strikes Back, which, not five minutes ago, had been absolutely impossible to comprehend.

Michelle shifted. Peter glanced at her. He didn’t want to be in a galaxy far, far away. It was much better here—on the plane, next to MJ.

* * *

Somewhere between Return of the Jedi and The Phantom Menace, Peter had nodded off to sleep. His head hung lazily to the left, snuggled against his headrest. It smelled faintly like lavender.

His eyes fluttered open, in the hazy space between sleep and wakefulness, and took a deep breath of the lavender fragrance. He even nuzzled his nose in the soft, impossibly welcoming pillow. His pillow made a tiny, feminine noise.

Peter froze. He slowly opened his eyes and came to grips with his current reality. MJ was snuggled up against him, her legs tucked under herself, and her head resting on his shoulder. His own head was pressed against the top of her head. They were cuddling.

He was too petrified to move. He was not sure if it was worse to move and gamble with waking her up, or to move and, therefore, stop cuddling her. Each was a daunting prospect.

She was so quiet and untroubled in sleep. From what he could see, she slept with her lips slightly parted.

Once more, he was faced with how utterly rattling her lips were.

He off-handedly wondered how her lips might feel pressed against his. He wondered if she would be fierce and all-consuming, or if she might kiss too gently and preciously for words. He wondered if she would let him wind his hand in her sweet-smelling curls. He wondered if she would crawl in his lap or wind her arms around his neck.

Peter Parker decided he didn’t want to move, consequences be damned, and snuggled closer to her.

He let his eyes fall shut and sleep took him once more.

* * *

The next time he woke, it was because MJ was stretching, cracking her back in the tiny airplane seat. The plane had landed and she was now awake. Their little, perfect moment in the skies was over. And he momentarily regretted they were no longer curled up with each other.

Then, he was awake enough to notice the embarrassed little look she was shooting his way. She tucked a curl, he now knew smelled like lavender, behind her ear, “I, uh, I’m sorry for being all up in your space.” He blinked at her. She hastily added, “There wasn’t much room, okay?”

He blinked again. And realized, too late, that she was waiting for him to say something, anything. He croaked, his voice thick with sleep, “It’s okay. I, uh, didn’t mind.”

She gnawed on her lip, again, and Peter openly stared at her lips. She noticed. He was too shaken to care. Let her look, he decided suddenly; after all, she had drawn his attention to her lips in the first place.

“Your hair smells like lavender,” he said stupidly.

She jolted, surprised and embarrassed, “Oh, uh, yeah. My shampoo.”

Peter nodded, dumbly, “Right. Makes sense.”

MJ played with the ends of her hair, as the guests started to deplane, “Anyway…”

“I like lavender,” he said.

Michelle smiled and it was a new smile, just for him. He tucked it away in his memories, as if he knew he was going to need to remember this moment. Her. Him. And the start of their trip to Europe.

Peter smiled back.

When the man next to Peter climbed out of his seat, he regretfully stood up out of his seat, breaking eye contact with Michelle. 32B. He would never forget seat 32B.

It took some time, as people plotted out of the plane, but when they were finally free, Peter sent Michelle one last smile. She threw back the same smile she had gifted him on the plane, the one he burned into his memory.

He knew he looked stupid, goofy even, but he couldn’t help it.

Just then, Ned saddled up to Peter, and breezily remarked, “You two looked cozy.”

Peter flushed deeply, hazarding one more look at MJ who was now locked in animated conversation with Betty, and scratched the back of his neck, “Oh, shove it.”

Ned guffawed.

* * *

They moved as a pack to customs.

Ned and Betty went together to the agent, giggling, and Peter fondly shook his head. He was happy his best friend was in love. It was a little ridiculous, but seventeen year olds were allowed to be ridiculous. He had to remind himself of that sometimes. After space, after Thanos, Peter tried to set boundaries and leave room for a little fun. He was a teenager, after all, even if he felt a hundred years old. War left that kind of tangible wound on a person’s spirit.

He banished those thoughts. Thinking about space and Thanos and Tony wasn’t healthy. He was on summer vacation in Europe with his friends. He was going to be Peter Parker.

He chanced a look at MJ.

She smiled at him in that perfectly disarming way.

He clutched his suitcase, gleeful and, for the first time in a long time, hopeful.

Spider-Man could wait.


End file.
